Dragon Age: Continency
by A Shattered Memory
Summary: Summary: Set after the events of Dragon Age 2, James Everfold, a young apostate mage from Kirkwall joins Isabela's crew to sail around the countries of Thedas. Picking up some interesting people in their adventure. Adventure/Fantasy with a bit of Romance.


-  
>DRAGON AGE: CONTINGENCY -<p>

*PROLOGUE*

My name is James Everfold. I am a mage from Kirkwall.. An apostate mage, to be precise. You're probably here for an interesting story.  
>An adventure. A wonderful, fantastic adventure where the good guys get the bad guys, the bad guys are just bad and the guy gets the girl. That's what usually happens. Well,<br>This, is different.

I am James Everfold, and this is my story.

I'll skip the boring parts about where I grew up, who I fancied whilst I grew up, about my family. We'll start at the beginning. I mean where it all began.

I'd never joined the circle. The circle in Ferelden at least. Or Antiva. or Orlais. Or Even Rivaini. My family moved about. 'Best to see the wonders of the world, before it's too late.' My parents used to always say. As I grew older, I grew to disbelieve them. I thought they were running from something, but I dismissed the thought as a childish fantasy.

I can tell you this, however. My father was a mage as well, and our family was known in several places. Mainly Antiva, Kirkwall and Rivaini, though some people knew us in other places, even Orlais. Our family was very large, however distant any of our relatives were, we all knew who was who. My second cousin twice removed is rumoured to serve in the court of Empress Celene herself, in fact. Well, if that is true that may explain why our family is so rich. My uncle Tarin ran in a small guild of merchants, thieves and assassins. Nothing too illegal, the thieving part of the guild wasn't run by him either. He was more head of the assassination department than anywhere else. Similar to how the Antivan Crows operate, mainly hired by nobles who are at one another and just want each other out of the way either for their money, their wives, their estates or the positions they hold in any court.

My family had made it's way up in alot of places, many parts of us rich, many poor. All related. Just how they made their way up all depended on the character. Honest work,  
>marriage... killing, smuggling, either lyrium or slaves, whatever is on your list, I can bet anything one of my relatives that I may or may not like to be related to at all has done. None of which I'm proud of to be related to any of them.<p>

I grew tired of the gruesome stories of my relatives in other families. Assassinating all of these people, smuggling other people and lyrium, and so I decided to take money and go my own way, to work as an honest man. It was a good thought to start with, being a healer to the poor, or a doctor to the rich, although there were probably many of them already. I never truly 'left' my family, just... Grew apart. It'd happened before, hence why my family is so big. Some excited or enthusiastic son or daughter went off to marry a farmhand, marry a lord, marry a noble, or become all of the above, and have in some way, contributed to our 'family fortune'.

So, blah blah blah, enough. Here's the story. It started there. In Kirkwall. In The Hanged Man.

*Chapter 1: A Drink In The Bar*

James sat in his usual seat, in the usual bar, in the usual town, in the usual region, drinking the usual drink. Third seat at the bar, The Hanged Man, Lowtown, Kirkwall in the Free took another sip slowly, hunched over the bar in his loose black shirt under his armored leather black jacket, wearing his armored trousers. His eyes a deep royal blue and his black hair over his eyes yet jetted backat the same time.  
>He carried his staff with him, though it did not look like a staff, more like a very old, very long wooden stick. His normal staff was somewhere safe,as not for him to attract attention.<p>

The usual rabble were at it again, singing terribly, drinking without a care, grabbing or groping at the barmaidens, begging for a night with one of them, or for free drinks,  
>all in a drunken stupour,hoping to just drink away their lives. He pitied them.<p>

Although he seemed to be drinking an alcoholic drink, he was mainly just drinking some water, or some very, very light ale. He was practically sobre. He learned to keep his focus at all times from his father, who was an apostate as well.

A half full, old, chipped, but still perfectly good mug flew across the room past James' face, he seemed mostly unpreterbed by this, even when it exploded against the wall,  
>to the shock of other patrons. It looked like one of the more rowdy lot was starting a bar fight. Again.<br>A few drunken voices rang out and a couple more mugs went flying, James still not taking any notice until one started flying towards him. He quickly ducked, the mug barely missing his head by milimetres and hit someone else in the back and exploded. Luckily for him, the mug was old, empty, and easily broken. Regardless, he was still angry regardless, and, as the average stereotypical person would assume, the enraged man assumed it was James. He sprung up, lumbered over to James and pulled his shoulder and turned him around, James, expecting him to throw a punch, held his hands in a ready position to dodge, throw another punch, grab the arm throwing the punch or go for his staff and beat him with it. Then again, he may have used magic. Then again, maybe not.

As he thought, the man threw a very shoddy punch, quick, perhaps powerful, but shoddy. James quickly moved under his arm and grabbed it, then grabbed the back of the man's head and kneed him in the stomach, then smashed his head in to the side of the bar, letting the man drop to the floor unconscious and dusted his hands.  
>The fight began to escalate, with nothing much worse than very blunt daggers being drawn and fists waving about until the door was kicked open with a loud 'BANG' and a sleek, slender, tanned figure strolled in, wearing a very revealing cloth over her chest and not much lower than her waist, a blue sash hanging loosely from around her upper hip to her upper thigh, a blue bandana placed over her head, two very sharp and very well crafted daggers on her back, a piercing on her chin and strands of hair fluttering about from under her bandana, with the rest of her hair flowing back to her neck.<p>

"RIGHT BOYS!" she called, seeming cheerful yet serious, raising her eyebrow and placing her hands on her hips. "Who's decided to start flinging their drink around this time?"  
>One of the more intoxicated men stumbled over to her, his eye black from a very poor attempt at taking on the most muscley person in the bar. "alrigh' ma' luvly?" He managed to murmur out of his foul, alcohol and blood drenched lips, putting on a very off putting smile and attempting to grab the woman.<br>This woman, however, certainly knew how to handle herself with, finesse, whatever form it came in. She grabbed his arm, still one hand on her hip, twisted it so the man bent over in pain, kneed him in the more painful places of his body and then flipped him over by pulling him towards her, then tripping him up with his own weight, he landed on the floor with a very pained, yet drunk sounding "Ooah.." before finally passing out on the floor from the pain and alcohol.  
>"Right then," she said, dusting her hands. "Who's next?" She then proceeded to start twiddling with one of her daggers carelessly, almost expecting something interesting to happen. Most of the fighting seemed to stop at the sight of her. Rather than smiling and saying 'that's better', she sighed to herself. "You lot are SO BORING! As soon as some sexy woman such as myself walks in you all stop squabling over who gets to touch the barmaid next and start drooling at her abnormally large tits!"<p>

The landlord, finally coming to his senses and getting up from behind the bar. "Right then you lot," he said very sternly to the drunk mass in front of him. "Piss off,  
>all of ya's." The drunken mass made a low rumble of "aaw"s and "ughs" and some "Bullshit"s as they shuffled out of the door slowly. James looked around half surprised,<br>then turned his gaze to the woman.  
>"What, come to look at my abnormal beauty as well, have you?" Questioned the woman, her hands on her hips again, the daggers replaced.<br>"I'm just surprised at how you managed to handle that lot so easily." Replied James simply.  
>"..I just realized, you're the first person I've seen in here today that HASN'T looked straight at my tits!" The woman said a bit more loudly than normal, her eyes widening in mock shock. "Well, at least you're sobre... I hope." She pulled up a stool next to him and sat down slowly. "I'm Isabela." She said with a slight smile on her face.<br>"James." James replied. "James Everfold."  
>"Sounds a bit posh for someone sitting in here."<br>"Can't help what you're called really, can you?"  
>"Unless you call yourself what you are called." Countered Isabela, smirking.<br>"I rest my case then." James said in a slightly resigned tone. "Excuse me, but what brings you to... A shithole such as this?" he then inquired in turn.  
>"It's not a shithole!" Isabela retorted, pouting and looking at him meaningfully in mock injury. "Well... Not completely... I'm looking for... A crew, for my ship."<br>"A crew?" Inquired James, intrigued in whatever she has to say.  
>"A crew. You know, the people who work in boats, the things that float on water, stopping you from being claimed by the deep?"<br>"Yes yes..."  
>"Well, I thought here'd be as good a place to start...But..." She paused, surveying the unconscious and sleeping drunkards littering the floor "Maybe not..."<br>"Maybe you could start in Hightown, there are at least 'some' people both worth hiring -and- have the spirit to do so" Responded James, smirking as she surveyed the floor still.  
>"Well... You may be right... But at any rate," Isabela hopped off the seat, slinking slowly away "I'd best retire for the night, think about what I'm going to do next." She stepped towards the stairs that lead to the many rooms that The Hanged Man had to offer. "You got a room here?"<br>"I thought about it, but decided not to get one."  
>"Why not? It's cosy... For the most part."<br>"I... Have family here."  
>"I see..." Isabela answered, narrowing her eyes slightly as she did so. "You remind me of.. An old friend."<br>"Do I now?" "Yes... But either way, they've gone now." She looked away for a moment before continuing up the stairs slowly. "Well, Goodnight! come see me here tomorrow, if you like." She called to him, not looking back, raising a hand in fairwell, stylishly slinking up the stairs and out of sight. James finished his drink, gave the landlord or whoever was in front of him a generous tip and left the Hanged Man, heading to Hightown.

*CHAPTER 2: Cozy Around The Fireplace*

James wandered the cold stone streets of Hightown, after ascending the very long staircase of stone leading from the sand and dust covered small buildings of Lowtown by the sea all the way to near the top of a mountain, where everything was all rich banners and sophisticated stone. He glanced at the empty merchant stands and at the estates lining the sides, with neat little windows, torches and doors. He eventually reached the one he was staying in, he'd promised his second cousin's brother -or at least he thought it was his second cousin's brother- that he'd look after the house while he was away in Orlais. Although James was good friends with his second cousin's brother,  
>Terrance, he didn't know much about him anymore. Whether he was away on business or taking a break with his family, he did not know.<p>

He slowly slipped the key into the door, looking around to see if anyone was out. There were normally thieves out around this time, but crime seemed to have seriously cut down nowadays. There were just a few bystanders and cloaked peopleheading home. He turned the key and opened the door. The great wooden door creaked open grandly before James stepped inside and shut the door, firmly locking it in place. He then hesitated and placed a couple of non-dangerous, yet good enough magical enchantments for good measure. Mainly just to scare off the burglars who would dare break into a house in Hightown. None of them ever were too bright. He poured himself a glass of Scarred 5:36 Exalted and sipped it slowly, sitting by the fire, staring deeply into it, wondering what he'd do next after Terrance returned. Where to go... Antiva? Perhaps Rivain? ..Ferelden? He seriously doubted that he'd go to Ferelden, however. Hee wanted to go somewhere relatively nice rather than trudging around places like Lowtown in Kirkwall, but didn't really fancy the enclosed spaces of Denerim, either.

He began to dose off, putting the Scarred 5:36 Exalted down slowly, and staring at the fire, fighting to keep his eyes open. He began to start hearing whispers in his ears,  
>maybe a whipping noise. Strange. That'd never happened before. James suddenly felt cold. In fact the whole room seemed a bit chilly. Shaking himself out of his tired trance, he stood up and looked around, the room seemed a bit tense, and the whistling noises continued. He surveyed the room until his eyes settled on the curtains by the windows.<p>

And they were moving.

James' heart sped up slightly, but then he calmed down as he realized that the window was open. He stepped over and placed his hands on the window, starting to close it.

But wait. How could the window be open, if he never opened it in the first place...

James spun around, his eyes narrowed and surveying the now seemingly hostile room. His hand instinctively went for his dagger. He held it in front of him, again surveying the room. He glanced over the by fire and could've sworn that he'd seen a figure by it, but nothing was there. He glared at the fire and raised his hand and a bolt of frost flew from it at the fire, extinguishing it. Darkness fell on the estate, nothing but the moonlight flooded in, making the setting all the more eerie.  
>James' eyes flew all over the now dark estate, the moonlight streaming from the windows, illuminating all of the dust floating about, He caught little glint by the book case and a few of the books make a little ruffling noise. He threw the dagger at the bookcase and it became pinned in the side, at least he thought it did judging by the noise it made.<br>He stood, smirking to himself until he saw a glinting object approaching out of the darkness. He widened his eyes as he recognized it as the dagger he had just thrown and his veins rushed with adrenaline. He quickly ducked to the side as the dagger sliced through the air and buried itself in the wall. He looked up and saw a figure slowly walking out of the darkness towards him. A girl. A woman.

Her long black hair flowing over her back and shoulders, wearing elegant leather clothes. Her eyes a brilliant shade of green. She wore a combination of black and scarlet. She wore a long sleeved scarlet shirt with lacing and fairly puffed sleeves, with a black waistcoat, splitting from her chest, upwards, held together at the top but some lacing. Her hands were covered by fingerless gloves, her sleeves ending somewhere within. Her trousers were skinny and black,  
>as were her boots, the buckles glinting when revealed to the light.<br>She continued to walk towards him, seeming to no longer be hostile towards him, smiling slightly. James found this curious and kept looking at her suspiciously. When she got a few feet away from him, She suddenly dashed forward and pushed him into the mantlepiece, shaking it slightly, holding another dagger, an emerald embedded into the hilt with a dragon circling it endlessly. The cold steel brushed the soft,warm flesh of his neck as did her gloved hand, almost, but not quite, strangling him.  
>"My sister. Now." She hissed mercilessly, her eyes narrowed into a hateful glare.<br>"I don't have. Your sister." James muttered angrily.  
>"DON'T." she hissed again, more forcefully, pushing both her hand and dagger to his throat. "Lie to me."<br>"I have NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" James lashed out, kneeing her in the stomach and forced her armed hand into the one holding his neck, hoping to cut it. Surely enough, the cold steel sliced through the scarlet shirt and slit into her skin, weakening her grip. He then used both hands to force it away and turned her to the mantlepiece, pulling his spare dagger from it's hiding place on his person, holding it to her neck. Only this time, he used magic to threaten her. A ball of flame appeared in his hand and glinted in his angry eyes." I would NEVER. Take anyone. I am no slaver."  
>The woman sighed and dropped her stance, relaxing. "Will I ever find her.. She was here! I know it! The note-!"<br>James stopped her by moving the dagger away and throwing the flame into the fire, igniting it once again. "Maybe I could help."  
>"Why would you care? I just threatened to cut your throat out-"<br>"You were mistaken, and since this 'letter' drew you to this house, maybe you can tell me things, I could help. Maybe you could start with your name?"  
>"Xant."<br>"Xant..?" James trailed off, giving her a questioning look.  
>"It's just Xant to you. You don't need to know my surname." She said quickly, looking at him with her green, piercing eyes.<br>"Alright Xant, I'm sorry.." He apologized, raising his hands in a surrendering manner. "What lead you here."  
>"This." Xant took a small piece of parchment from her waistcoat and handed it to him.<p>

'Master,

I took the liberty of delivering the girl to the address you gave in your previous orders.  
>Here's the list of shipments:<br>Three crates of lyruim, smuggled to a rented dockhouse in Lowtown One slave girl, human, black hair, blue eyes, soft skin, Delivered to the estate in Hightown..'

The list went on and on until the list ended.

'Your faithful servant, Kenther.  
>P.S. The girl's sister is searching for her as we speak. She is very dangerous. I would advise you to get rid of the girl as soon as possible if not release her. She may well find her way to me. Or to you.'<p>

James handed it back to her. "I'm sorry." He sympathized.  
>"Of course you are." Xant said coldly, stuffing the note away forcefully.<br>"Where is this Kenther?" James inquired.  
>"He's at the bottom of the water by the docks by now."<p>

"I see."

"I followed him to a warehouse in Lowtown. He went in and came out about ten minutes later. I went inside and foundnothing the note lying on the floor. I took it and went after him as he left the warehouse. I captured and interrogated him for information. He gave me nothing useful, however, so he was nothing but a liability."  
>"Right then." James answered, looking at the fire. "What will you do now?"<br>"I don't know..." She covered her face with her palm and closed her eyes wearily.  
>"You seem tired... Do you want to stay here for the night?"<br>Her eyes snapped open. "What?" She said, surprised.  
>"You've been at this non-stop it seems, and it looks like you could use some rest."<br>"But... I had a knife to your throat, and-"  
>"That doesn't matter." James intervened. "I understand why you did it. You can have the other room." "O-Okay." Xant finally agreed. "I'll just stay the night.. I could... Use some rest." She flopped on a chair and seemed to fall asleep.<br>"Or just sleep there... That's just fine." James said to himself, extinguishing the fire for the last time that night. He then made sure there weren't any ways for more thieves, assassins or other people wanting to get inside before he headed off to bed.


End file.
